Name
by cicir
Summary: Oh no. He stared into the small child's eyes through his shades, his face blank, but the horror setting deep in his stomach. The small red irises stared back, sparkling with innocence as the kid reached its arms outward, trying to reach him. Hell no.


Name

The meteor landed inches from him, narrowly avoided by a quick flash-step, the rumbling of the complaining earth getting no where near to knocking him off his feet. He leaned into the crater, staring at the contents of the meteor, split in half and disintegrating to dust by the second.

Oh no.

He stared into the small child's eyes through his shades, his face blank, but the horror setting deep in his stomach. The small red irises stared back, sparkling with innocence as the kid reached its arms outward, trying to reach him.

Hell no.

He didn't move, staring at the child as the kid squirmed in the steaming dirt. His muscles were locked in place as he watched the kid's hands open and close repeatedly.

Hell fuc-

The child let out the smallest of sounds, a miniscule mumble only heard by the hawk ears of the man in shades. But it was enough. He had lost. He felt his hand reach into his pocket as he stared at the small red eyes. He could already feel something in his heart that he had never felt before. Something... warm. He pulled out the small pair of shades, gaging whether they would fit on the baby's face or not.

Why do I even have these?

He quickly asked himself as he slid down the side of the embankment, skidding to a stop a foot away from the kid's feet. He plopped back, sitting down as he stared at the kid for a moment. The kid's crimson eyes were glued to his face, and he giggled and smiled, reaching out to him. In a flash, the kid is awkwardly in his hands, held as far away from his body as possible as he turned and tilted the kid from side to side. He quickly pulled down the diaper.

Boy.

He slowly brought the kid to his chest, awkwardly holding the child as he saw mothers did, cradling his body, and watching as the head lolled back and forth. He slipped the shades onto the boy's face. "There. That makes you look four times cooler." His poker face slipped slightly into a smile as the kid grabbed at the edge of the shades, its expression twisting into curiosity and annoyance at the new glass contraption on his face. "I should probably name you, huh kid?" He repositions the child so his head is nestled in the crook of his arm, his body resting against his chest. The kid looked up at him, his eyes barely visible through their new veil, but still obviously marked with the innocence and curiosity of a baby. "It's gotta be a cool name for a cool bro like you." He smiled ever so slightly, his mind reeling through names.

Blaze. Ryker. Jake. Damien. Andrew.

No! None of these were right! He looked the kid in the eyes, and shrugged ever so slightly. "Well, you can't be nameless forever. One will come to me." He bent his knees ever so slightly, easily hopping out of the crater, and walking back toward his own apartment.

Dan. Sebastian. Clay. Nathan.

He walked through the front door of the apartment complex he lived in, pushing the door open with his foot as he shuffled in, cradling the kid awkwardly in his arms. He glanced upward at the lady at the front desk, both of them not blinking. Him because he was a strider. Her because of all the people to walk through the doors on a daily basis, it was Dirk whom she never expected to walk in cradling anything living. Let alone a baby. He nodded ever so slightly as he walked past her, stopping at the door of the elevator. Her mouth gawked open as she stared at him. He paid her no heed as he not so patiently waited for the doors to slide open, offering him the solace of an empty 4 foot by 4 foot box. The doors slid open, and with one last awkward glance (The strider face still set in stone) he stepped in.

John. Aaron. Ian. Stanley.

He was sitting on the couch, leaning on his knees with his elbows, staring at the wriggling, squirming, wailing thing on the edge of his couch. He ran his hands through his hair, staring at the kid. "God, little man, what is wrong?" He was growing more and more impatient with the water works of the small kid, and he finally snagged the kid under the arm-pits, holding him up and staring at him, shade to shade. The kid didn't stop crying, but Dirk now knew why the kid was wailing. He scrunched his nose at the new stench assailing his nostrils. "Oh..." He looked to the side. "That's why..."

Karey. Carey. Carry. Fuck.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" He wailed as narrowly avoided the yellow stream flying through the air, stopping just inches short of his precious turntables. The kid burst into laughter, nonchalantly attacking the apartment with his bodily fluids. He scrambled from left to right, trying to find something, anything to stop the yellow rainbow. He finally shoved a smuppet on top of the child's crotch, flinching as the bright red color of his red plush rump grew darker with the addition of liquid. He stared down at the kid, his mouth a flat line. "Great, kid. Now I'm going to have to toss Ms. Meenah away thanks to your flailing piss." The child only giggled in response, its smile making his own frustration ebb away. He smiled himself, ever so slightly, and then pulled out a fresh diaper (In which he had cleverly stolen from a mother of 4 down the hall, leaving a note in place of the missing diaper simply saying "Thanks for the shit holder. I'll pay ya back."). The kid's smile disappeared, and the battle of flailing legs and wet smuppets began, which could only end in one way: the child's junk successfully coddled by sodium polyacrylate.

Diamon. John. Joseph. Jacob.

"AaaaaAAAh... aaaaAAAAH... aaaaAAAAHaaaaaaAAAAH..." The kid bubbled out nonsensical sounds as he swirled in circles, Dirk watching in minor amusement (And minor horror) as the record on the turntable spun him round and round (Sucessfully wrecking his shit).

"Hey, little man. Why do you like that so much? You're just chillin' on a record, spinning an' shit. Doesn't look as exciting as you make it out to be..." He watched as the kid didn't respond, still bubbling out nonsense, dynamics growing and shrinking in direct relation to his blubbering mouth's direction, and not quite in harmony with the sound of the squeaking and squealing complaints of the record he sat on.

"How do I...one night without you- You- You-...What kind of life-life-life would that-Oh I, I need you in my arms- world, my heart, my soul." Dirk lifted the kid off the table, releasing the pressure from the record, allowing the song to play uninterrupted.

"And I, oh Baby, I don't know what I would do." He shifted the kid, cradling him close to his chest with one arm. "I'd be lost if I lost you. If you ever leave..." He held out his hand to the kid, and the kid lightly grabbed his finger, smiling and blubbering. "Baby you would take away everything real in my life. And tell me now..." He took in a small breath, a small blush crossing his face as he sang along with the next verse, belting the words out like the tone-deaf, head over heels, over protective, loving bro that he was.

"How do I live without you, I want to know. How do I breathe without you. If you ever go. How do I ever, ever survive? How do I? How do I? Oh, how do I live..."

"Live-Live-Live-Live-Live." The record skipped, and Dirk quickly shut it off, frowning at the ruined disk. He averted his gaze back to the nameless kid, letting out a small laugh.

"You know what kid? I bet on the epitome of irony that you will end up hating this song in the future for some shitty reason. Like some super cool actor holding rabbits or some ironic shit like that." The kid only glubbed in response. Dirk let out a small laugh, scuffling the kid's growing hair.

"I love the shit outta you. You know that, right?"

"Bueahh!"

"Yeah... Bueah."

Dagobert. Dagen. Dalton. Dade.

"Nye Caaa!"

"That's right, little man. It's lil' Cal, and he's come out to play again!" Dirk couldn't stop the smile as Lil' Cal's mouth was forced open and shut by the kid's exploring fingers. The kid eventually grew bored with the wooden mechanics of the puppet's mouth, and began fiddling with the individual teeth. Dirk watched with minor amusement, but it quickly turned into horror as the kid pulled at one of the more loose teeth.

"Ahh man no don't-" He lunged forward to grab the puppet from the boy's hands, but was too late. A small white tooth fell out, tumbling into the dark crevices of the couch, never to be found again. Dirk let out a disappointed sigh, Cal falling limp in his hands. "Ahh man, his tooth..." He looked at the kid, who was staring up at him in confusion. He just couldn't bring himself to be mad at the boy. He smiled, placing Cal on the ground near his feet, and picking the kid up. "Don't worry little man, I've got a gold tooth just for this occasion. I'll have Cal fixed up before you know it!" The kid gurgled a bit, and let out a small peal of laughter as he tickled him.

Sam. Brave. Tefloml... what the fuck was that last one?

He didn't give a flying rat's ass that the mothers at the park were staring at him as he walked down the street with the kid strapped to his chest, bobbing up and down with each step. He sat down on a bench, looking down into the kid's face and smiling, a small sheen of sweat glittering on his forehead. The kid's head lolled to the side, his eyes closed as he breathed deeply, letting out the smallest of murmurs in his sleep. He brushed the hair out of the kid's face again, leaning back against the splintering wood.

"You know I love you, right little man?" He stared up at the sky. "You're one beloved little piece of shitting, barfing, laughing flesh." He glanced down at the kid, who looked completely at peace in its sleep, his shades slipping down his nose. "I think I finally got a name for you, little man. Cuz I'm pretty sure The Ever Fucking Love of My Life won't work..." He touched the tip of the shades ever so lightly, pushing them up the kid's nose, hiding the fluttering eyelashes. "How's dave sound?"

The kid didn't respond, still sleeping soundly. Dirk let out a small chuckle. "Well I don't care what you think, really. You're too young to get this shit anyway. I like Dave. Shit means 'Beloved,' and that's what you are." He nodded ever so slightly in triumph. "Well now you've got a name, Dave. Congratulations."

Dave. Dave. Dave. Dave.

"I love that name."

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